


dratchet Party 2020 (NSFW)

by thedragonfly



Series: Drift/Ratchet stories [13]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dratchetparty 2020 (Transformers), Hotel, Humanformers, M/M, Oral Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedragonfly/pseuds/thedragonfly
Summary: Seven short fics for dratchet party 2020. This is the NSFW edition.Prompts:1) Hotel2) Gold3) Candy4) Hearts Resolved and Hands Prepared5) Sleepiness6) Broken and Bleeding7) [Free Space]
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Series: Drift/Ratchet stories [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/405147
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. #1: Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm about three weeks late to the party, but better late than never. At the time #dratchetparty was beginning I was supposed to be starting a new program in college and was going to just skip it or even do it on my May semester break. Covid-19 broke out, my program got cancelled, my muse went on vacation for a week. I recalled the muse from vacation and am participating.
> 
> This is the NSFW companion piece to the SFW edition.
> 
> Chapter 1 is a chapter 2 for my first humanformers of these two. You can read chapter 1 of that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749892)

Drift was the first to wake up the next morning, like an alarm had gone off in his head as the first sunbeams of the morning filtered through the shuttered blinds of their hotel room. He turned his head to see Ratchet lying on his front, arms under his pillow, normally unruly shock of reddish hair now even more untameable. Drift smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of Ratchet's head before untangling himself from the covers.

The pair had gone to bed last night completely naked after a night of good sex. Drift strode to where he had leaned his rolled up yoga mat against the coat closet and carried it to the center of the room. With a quick flick of the wrist the mat was unfurled and Drift took his place upon it.

Ratchet roused quietly to the sound of footsteps and the soft flap of Drift's mat settling on the ground. He opened his eyes but remained still as he watched Drift begin his morning exercises with his back to the doctor. 

Ratchet rolled on the bed as he gently rubbed at his growing erection from watching the muscles ripple on his sexy husband. Drift had moved from the seated positions of his yoga to the standing ones, and if he remembered correctly his favorite positions to watch were coming up soon – watching Drift bend over so he could ogle that perfect ass. 

Ratchet bit down on his lip gently, trying to stifle the moan that wanted to escape him. He stroked his dick again, feeling it come to its full height.

"Ratty..." Drift said, smiling. "I know you're watching..." He moved into his downward dog pose, and Ratchet sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge. 

"You caught me," Ratchet admitted. "Such a beautiful sight to wake up to."

Drift walked over to Ratchet, putting his index finger over his husband's lips as he dropped to his knees between the doctor's legs. "Be shoosh now. I could use some breakfast...." With a hand on either side of Ratchet's legs, he spread his legs while licking a swath up the underside of his dick.

Ratchet groaned as he watched the sight before him. His dick leaked clear fluids over the tip which Drift hurriedly licked up. He ran his fingers through Drift's silky black hair just as the younger man took his dick into his mouth.

Ratchet squeezed Drift's shoulders with his thighs as Drift moved a hand onto his dick and started pumping the doctor's erection as he flicked his tongue over and around the swollen shaft.

"Fuck. Drift. Yes," Ratchet cursed as his orgasm shot through his groin. 

Drift flicked his tongue against the slit of Ratchet's dick, eagerly accepting the load of cum deposited onto it and swallowing it down.

Drift pulled off Ratchet's softening dick, using his thighs to push himself back up to his feet as Ratchet collapsed onto his back on the soft duvet. "That was an excellent start, but breakfast?" Drift asked.

"Go on without me, kid. You got your breakfast," Ratchet said. 

"Actually, I think they delivered breakfast to our door," Drift mused.


	2. #2: Gold

The door slid shut behind Drift and Ratchet as they entered their shared habsuite on the Lost Light. Drift pushed Ratchet up against the wall, kissing him passionately as the medic opened his mouth to accept the speedster's glossa. 

The pair had left the party after Chromedome and Rewind's wedding, both having partaken slightly in the light bubbly engex served.

Both bots had prepared for the ceremony simply and in their own ways. Ratchet had opted for a nice polish after his shower while Drift went for light, clean, understated gold to accent his frame. The tin of gold paint sat on the table in the room, a reminder to be put away later.

Drift kissed his way into Ratchet's neck cables. The medic tilted his helm, giving Drift better access as he rested his hands on the speedster's waist, fingertips dipping into seams.

Ratchet switched their positions, pinning Drift up against the wall. He grinned for a moment, savouring the pleasantly sure look on Drift's face before he crouched down to lick the trail of gold paint on his chest. 

Drift groaned and threw his helm back against the wall, shuttering his optics. When he looked back down again, Ratchet was paying attention to the lower seam of his chest armour. Drift reached down, tracing his chevron, before tweaking the tip. "Thought you preferred.... hah! copper to gold, tang versus sweet..." Drift asked. 

Ratchet looked up at Drift, "Then perhaps you should have painted yourself in copper paint," he said with a chuckle.

Drift gasped in mock affront at the suggestion, "And ruin their wedding day...?"

Ratchet picked Drift up at the knees and stood up, carrying the swordsmech to their berth and depositing him there. "I don't need to hear about the metaphysical properties of gold right now, Drift."

Drift bounced back up to a kneeling crouch on the berth, grinning in a way that revealed his fangs. He snatched the tin of gold paint off the table, flipping the cap off and letting it clatter onto the floor. Dipping the index finger of his right hand into it, he smeared the paint into the seams of Ratchet's chest window, smirking as the ambulance gasped. "Lie down," Drift commanded. 

Ratchet looked about to protest this turn of events, but laid himself down on the berth as Drift ordered. 

Drift climbed onto the berth, straddling Ratchet's hips and bringing the paint tin with him within easy reach. He bent down, licking at the horizontal stripe of gold paint on the top of Ratchet's chest window.

Ratchet squirmed, trying to remain quiet as Drift's glossa completed a mild electrical circuit, exciting rarely activated sensor nodes below. Just having this beautiful speedster atop him had his array running hot.

"Gold is malleable and an excellent conductor, Ratty." Another dip of his fingers into the gold paint and Drift captured one of Ratchet's hands in his own, highlighting each joint and the creases of his palm.

Ratchet flexed his free hand in response to the sensations flooding his sensornet. “Drift....” he whined, having a good idea what was coming next.

“Hmm, yes, Ratchet?” Drift asked, already licking the medic’s sensitive palm. Ratchet’s fingers reflexively curled, tapping against Drift’s cheekguards.

Drift turned Ratchet's hand to slowly take each digit into his mouth, making sure to lick the joints well. By the time Drift was onto the last finger, Ratchet's vents were working hard to dissipate the excess heat from his frame and his Interface array had opened.

"Cheeky kid," Ratchet groaned once Drift finally pulled off his hand. He moved his hands to rest them on Drift's waist. "Open up for me?" Ratchet asked. 

Drift complied and his interface panel opened with a _shnickt_ , revealing his quickly pressurizing spike, normally black with white ridges and red biolight, the ridges now glinting with gold as the red biolights blinked happily to Drift's quickening spark rate. 

Ratchet stared at Drift's spike. "You painted your spike gold, too. What did you think was going to happen at the wedding?" he asked. 

"I... I wanted to be thorough, okay," Drift said, a touch defensively. He reached for more paint, bringing a fingerful of it to Ratchet's array as he scooted between the doctor's thighs. 

Ratchet squirmed as Drift teased his anterior node with his gold-covered finger, down his engorged valve lips before sliding inside. 

"I think we should conduct an experiment, for science.... does gold enhance our overloads. What do you think, Ratty?" Drift asked, pulling his finger from Ratchet's valve, earning a small whimper from the medic. Drift crawled over Ratchet, allowing his spike to slide through the folds of Ratchet's valve without entering him.

Ratchet reached up with both hands and pulled Drift into a kiss. 

Drift slid his spike slowly into Ratchet's valve, trying to watch his partner for a different reaction.

Ratchet bucked his hips upwards, encouraging Drift to continue.

Drift obliged Ratchet, fragging his partner harder and faster. The gold paint ignited sensor nodes for both mechs, sending sparks of charge to build faster and more intensely than usual. 

Drift broke the kiss, pressing his helm crest to Ratchet's chevron as he panted with the exertion. Never one for stamina as the topping partner, Drift could feel his impending overload. He buried his face in Ratchet's neck cables as his spike sprayed the medic's valve with transfluids shortly before both bots felt their joined interface arrays blossom with an unusually strong current of electrical energy. 

Drift and Ratchet both cried out in ecstasy and Drift laid flopped on Ratchet's chest. 

After a few moments, Ratchet poked Drift in the side. "Drift...?" he asked softly. 

"Hmm, yeah Ratty?" Drift slurred, lazily lifting his helm to look at Ratchet.

Ratchet rolled them both onto their sides, kissing the top of Drift's helm and playing with an audial finial. "You've convinced me. Gold belongs in our berth, even if it's a load of spiritual bullscrap. It sure as hell is conductive to a good frag."

Drift chuckled. "I might just make a Spectralist out of you yet," he teased and kissed Ratchet. 

The medic merely grunted into the kiss, groping Drift's aft.


End file.
